


Easy. Listen.

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Damages
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 01:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patty and Ellen, and wedding rings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy. Listen.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very happy/fluffy piece.

**

 

This isn't your thing. You're not sure it ever was. Even when you were young--it seems as though that was such a brief episode in your life--and you were impressionable and allowed yourself to be carried away when it came to matters of amorous nature, you never really saw the point. But there are guidelines you follow because it's all part of a game. _The_ game in which you fool everyone and anyone into thinking you're just like everybody else--you fool them into thinking you haven't surpassed them. There are a selected few you actually respect, but they are very few and VERY selective individuals. You don't regret that. It's made your life less messy. Clutter is something you like to avoid.

 

Ellen is one of a very special few whose intellect and talent you respect. That alarmingly sharp and tactful talent of hers to manipulate was developed faster than you ever thought possible and it only makes her youth deceitful. Because that doe-like gaze and that full, seemingly honest pout are but a farce and a gift. The way a dangerous predator is deceiving--oh, Ellen is a predator. This is what you see in her that everyone else fails to, and what Ellen herself failed to see once. This is why you can't seem to stay away from each other, even when you try-- _not that you try very hard_ \--it's difficult to stay out of each other's peripherals. It's a particular itch neither of you can really shake.

 

But in spite of Ellen's rapid and dramatic evolution, she still embraces the conventional things. And throughout the progression of the mutual understanding that you NEED to be together and that you are not necessarily ordinary, Ellen likes certain things that you oblige to, simply for the sake of giving the younger woman what she wants. For the sake of the look on her face right now.

 

The surface of the coffee table is currently non existent under the collection of diamond wedding bands laid out on the purple silk draped over the expensive piece of furniture. Ellen is gasping and 'ooing' and 'aahing' while you sip your tea and sit back comfortably beside her. The Harry Winston jeweler is explaining everything from sizes to back stories on the gleaming pile of luxurious rings and Ellen's eyes glow as brightly as the diamonds.

 

There was no official engagement, there was no engagement ring--it was a sort of agreement that worked and was as romantic as either of you could have hoped for. But Ellen is the kind of woman who should have diamonds. Ellen deserves diamonds, and so you suggested wedding bands. 

 

Ellen practically pounced on you with delight at the suggestion and after an impromptu tryst against the kitchen counter, you called and made an appointment. 

 

"Honey, look--" She says, holding up something that had caught your eye earlier, and she smiles as she reads it all over your face, "--I love this for you." 

 

It still catches you off guard that your lives have braided so tightly together now that situations exist that warrant pet names. You don't use them often, but they sometimes appear all on their own.

 

"It's beautiful," You say and let her do the rest of the talking.

 

It's not that you don't care, it's just that she takes more joy in this than you ever could. This is the second time you do this and it's the last wedding ring you plan on wearing. Semantics and special meanings, they don't lie in objects that most people see as confining, these rings won't bind you or tie you to one another and you both know it, because there's something stronger that wraps you both at the waist and pulls you in so tightly against each other that sometimes it's hard to see or breathe. There is nothing a pair of rings can add to what you already have plenty of. Mostly, it's that stubborn necessity to keep around each other. But it's a _necessity_ , much like breathing--a second nature.

 

She finds the perfect pair of rings after a while--a shorter length of time than you anticipated--and holds them up. "Look," She says, in that soft, content tone. You look at them, you nod, you meet her gaze and she knows you like them. 

 

"Perfect," you tell her, and for a second, you're not sure if it's the rings you're referring to or the fact that it's all just that damn easy.

 

**** 

 

 


End file.
